


Country Magic #6 - What if I Never Get Over You

by olivejuice28



Series: Country Magic [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivejuice28/pseuds/olivejuice28
Summary: Based off the song "What if I Never Get Over You" by Lady Antebellum. Hermione comes to terms with the place Draco filled in her life and where she needs to go from here.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Country Magic [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518281
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	Country Magic #6 - What if I Never Get Over You

**Country Magic #6**

**What if I Never Get Over You**

_~Crash~_

The mug had fallen from the shelf as she’d tried to reach a different one behind it, and her heart felt like the shards of ceramic now scattered on the kitchen floor. Her eyes blurred with unwanted tears as she cast a _reparo_ and placed it carefully on a different shelf where it would be less likely to take another tumble. She didn't have to see it clearly to recognize her favorite impressionist painting replicated around the sides. It had been a souvenir of sorts from the day he'd surprised her with tickets to the Louvre. 

Why did it hurt so much? Why did it seem like the pain only intensified as time drifted unceremoniously by? He had been gone longer now than they’d actually been together, which made her emotional reaction seem even more off-balance. It wasn’t as if they’d been serious. They’d never made any promises or declarations or even talked about the future. They had simply lived in the moment, taking things slowly and enjoying getting to know one another. She had confided in him and had grown to trust him as much, if not even more so, than the best friends she’d had since their schooldays.

She slumped against the counter, recalling for the hundredth time it felt like, the last conversation they’d had. The one where he explained that his department head was sending him abroad for an extended period of time, and that he would be unreachable much of the time due to the nature of the assignment. He had asked her what she wanted to do about them, and she had warred briefly with the two sides of her brain. On the one hand, she wanted to tell him she’d wait for him and that they could pick up where they’d left off when he returned. On the other, she didn’t want to come off as clingy or assuming, since they’d never even officially stated if they were exclusive during the past seven months.

His expression had been detached and unreadable, which had led her to believe that he wasn’t in favor of maintaining anything at so great a distance. So, she had put her pragmatic big-girl-pants on and told him she thought it would be best if they parted as friends. She had thought for a fraction of a second that disappointment had flashed across his handsome face, but she blinked and his calm, smooth facade was firmly in place again. They’d finished their dinner and returned to her flat where he’d kissed her one last time before disapparating on her front steps, leaving nothing behind but a sense of emptiness she’d been surprised to feel so profoundly.

In the days that followed, she had refused to succumb to the cliche, broken-hearted, weepy girl she’d witnessed several of her friends become a time or two. No, there was nothing to wallow over. They’d had a good run, and now it was over. It made sense for them to call it quits with him leaving the country. What if he found the love of his life over there? Who was she to hold him back from finding that sort of happiness? It wasn’t like they were going to end up married or anything. At least that’s what she told herself every time she chuckled at a remembered joke, or smelled something that resembled his cologne, or saw a flash of white-blonde hair in a crowd that caused her heart to leap into her throat.

In an attempt to fill the Draco-shaped hole left in her life, she threw herself into her work with even more fervor and diligence than usual. She also found ways to busy herself during her down time. It wasn’t as if they had spent every free moment together, but she found that staying occupied was a helpful way to keep her mind off a myriad of memories, and from wondering where he was and what he was doing at that exact moment. She started volunteering two evenings a week at the Muggle library a block away from the entrance to Diagon Alley, and she had finally taken Luna up on her repeated invitation to join a witches knitting group on Monday nights. Hermione didn’t necessarily care about needle sizes or yarn colors, but the activity was soothing and she felt slightly bolstered by the fact that Luna’s items were even less recognizable than her own. She still met her friends on Friday nights at the Leaky, and had offered herself to Andromeda on Saturdays, giving the kind woman who had become like an aunt to her a small break from her precocious grandson. She also had started attending Sunday brunch at the Burrow regularly, something she hadn’t been doing since she and Ron had split. Not because it ended badly, quite the opposite in fact, but being subjected to Molly’s wistful glances all afternoon had lessened her enjoyment of the time spent with her second family. With Ron engaged to Susan now, though, it took the pressure off her and allowed her to once again relax and catch up with the red-headed clan.

If Harry and Ginny noticed the sudden upswing in her activity level, or her refusal to engage in any conversation where a certain name was mentioned, they didn’t say. In fact, the couple seemed to decide it was their mission in life to find her a suitable new boyfriend, and as a result, set her up on several blind dates. While the dates so far hadn’t been the most awful experiences in her life, they also weren’t anything to brag about, and she spent a substantial amount of time comparing each wizard with the one who had disappeared from her life like a vanished object. After one such failed attempt at forming a new attachment, she found herself slumped in a chair in her best friend’s kitchen, denying her lingering feelings while staring listlessly at the scrubbed wooden table top.

Ginny asked her if she was still planning to attend the Ministry gala the next night, which she was, and she actually perked up a tiny bit at the idea of getting dressed up and spending the evening with her friends. She noticed a meaningful glance pass between the redhead and her young husband and her mood took a distinct turn for the worse. She knew that look; it meant she wasn’t going to like whatever was said next, and that both people at the table were reluctant to tell her. She sat up straighter and looked them both in the eye, demanding they tell her whatever news was now hanging over their heads like a storm cloud ready to burst.

Harry was never one to beat around the bush, so he met her insistent gaze and informed her gently that Draco was back in town and was also planning to attend the gala. At first she was speechless, which almost never happened, and then her brain started whirring with all that one bit of information meant. He was back. She asked Harry how long and he cringed when he admitted to having seen the tall blonde two days earlier. So he’d been back at least three or four days and hadn’t contacted her. Well, that told her all she needed to know. Good thing they’d ended things before he’d left, since obviously he didn’t feel a need to see her upon returning. She tried to school her features into an calm expression that belied the turmoil raging inside and excused herself, saying she needed to get home to finish the laundry or some such nonsense, and it was with embarrassingly sympathetic looks that her two friends hugged her goodbye and Ginny promised to pop over the next night so they could get ready together.

Back in the refuge of her own flat, Hermione let the disappointed tears fall and the buried anger rise to the surface. There had been a small part of her that resented Draco for not challenging her when she’d given her opinion about their relationship; a minuscule romantic piece of her normally sensible self that had wished what they had was something he found worth pushing for. But he hadn’t, and she had accepted that and tried to put him behind her. The fact that he had now returned and hadn’t made any attempt to see her hurt irrationally. And she was going to have to face him tomorrow night at the gala. For several long minutes she tried to come up with a valid excuse to bow out, but knew that Harry and Ginny would see right through it and then she would be bombarded with questions about why she was still so hung up on him, and the reality was that she just didn’t know. She had tried, really she had, to forget him, but none of the blokes she met held a candle to his intellect or his wit, none of them could reduce her knees to jelly with a smoldering smirk, and none of them made her feel like she was so much more than the insipid titles the _Prophet_ always seemed to bestow on her.

Since ditching was not an option, she concocted Plan B, which consisted of giving Ginny free reign in the hair and makeup department. This was guaranteed to end up with her looking much more glamorous and sophisticated than she could ever manage on her own, and she hoped it would make Draco at least a little sorry she wasn’t by his side. The second part of her plan was to find as many good-looking, eligible wizards as possible to mingle and dance with, and to possibly even leave the event with one of them at the end of the night. Of course, making sure one particular party guest saw all of that was paramount. Hermione wasn’t usually a spiteful or dramatic person, but for reasons she couldn’t quite name she wanted him to be jealous; wanted him to miss her; wanted him to realize what wasn’t his anymore and feel _bad_ about it for Godric’s sake. With her resolve in place, she dried her tears, marched to her closet, and pulled out her gown, deciding that a few alterations were going to be necessary if she was really going to make a statement.

The following evening, standing just outside the entrance to the crowded ballroom, Hermione’s palms were sweaty and her heart felt like it was trying to run away without her. Ginny had gone on and on about how incredible she looked, and even Harry had done a double-take when he’d come to collect them, but now she felt like a little girl who’d gotten into her mother’s cosmetics and was playing dress up. She wobbled on her uncharacteristically-high heels, and forced herself not to toy with her hair or tug at her dress, which clung to her like a second skin and showed off far more of her figure than she was used to. She was just about to fake a need to use the loo so she could hide for a bit when she caught a glimpse of a shock of white-blonde hair amidst the crowd of guests already assembled. Immediately her hesitation vanished and her desire to see the look on his face when she walked up to him took over. She squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and took several deep, calming breaths. Harry turned to see where she was and raised an eyebrow in question. She nodded stiffly and followed him and Ginny through the doorway, staying near them as they began to mingle their way around the room, knowing eventually they would cross paths with Draco. It happened sooner than she was expecting.

She hadn’t even gotten through her first glass of champagne when she heard a greeting, drawled in a low, familiar voice behind her. Turning to look over her shoulder, she found him taking in her appearance with an appraising eye. She gave a small smile, playing it cool, yet all the while her heart was screaming to demand to know why he hadn’t owled or floo-called or anything, and her brain was registering how good he looked and how very much she had missed him. He joined their little cluster of friends and made small-talk, making a point to address her specifically at regular intervals. He made it seem like no time had passed between them at all, like he hadn’t been gone for over a year, like they hadn’t been... something... before he’d left.

But maybe that was just it. Maybe, to him, they really hadn’t been anything special. That thought hit Hermione like the Knight Bus going full tilt, and she fought to catch her breath while maintaining a perfectly calm and social demeanor. She needed to get away from him and this painful revelation before she did something ridiculous like tossing the contents of her glass in his face, or throwing another punch at his perfectly patrician nose. It was time to put Part Two of Plan B into action. She began scouring the room for potential conversationalists and was immediately relieved to see one of Harry’s coworkers, a bloke whom she had chatted with several times at the Leaky but never dated, standing just a few feet away. As she was staring in his general direction, trying to figure out a way to remove herself from her current circle, he happened to look over and catch her eye. She smiled in what she hoped was an approachable way, though she felt slightly unhinged at the moment, and he grinned in response, nodded to the people around him and strode over to her.

If Draco was surprised or bothered by the appearance of the newcomer, or the attention he was paying solely to Hermione, he didn’t let it show, a fact she found extremely irritating. _Could the man give nothing away?_ Thankfully, the wizard by her side was easy to talk to and rather nice to look at, so it wasn’t as if she couldn’t enjoy herself. The problem was, she _wasn’t_ enjoying herself. The whole time the poor bloke was chatting her up, she was trying to listen to whatever Draco was saying in his own, completely separate conversation. Her head was spinning from the effort, and she was starting to get frustrated, so when a lull occurred, she hinted at wondering what appetizers were on the buffet, and gratefully took the wizard’s offered arm as they made their way across the room.

Once she was out of range of the cause of her distress, she relaxed and allowed herself to fully focus on the nice young man beside her. She found they had much in common as they filled their small plates, and she appreciated the wide range of topics they easily conversed about. Perhaps this night wasn’t going to be such a wash after all. Instead of trying to find numerous dance partners like she’d originally planned, she stuck with just the one and continued to enjoy his company. Towards the end of the night he asked if he could take her to dinner the next weekend and she accepted without hesitation. She had noticed Draco’s eyes on her a time or two as the night progressed, but he never approached her or made any indication that he was irked by the attention she was receiving.

Just as she was about to head home, after having bid her potential suitor goodnight, she was surprised to find Draco beside her. He offered to walk her home, knowing she preferred it to apparition, and she reluctantly agreed. She couldn’t understand why he wanted to interact with her now, when he hadn’t approached her all evening, and wasn’t sure what he expected of her. They walked in silence for the first few minutes until he started talking about his time abroad. He gave a brief description of his travels, and then went on to explain that he’d been tied up in meetings since returning home. She saw this as his way of asking her to understand why he hadn’t contacted her, but it irritated her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that if it had been that important to him, if _she_ had been that important, he would’ve taken a minute or two to send an owl simply letting her know what was going on. She would have understood, and she told him as much.

He chuckled at her blunt admonition and said he really was sorry, and that he honestly hadn’t been sure she’d want to hear from him. This made her even angrier, but she kept a lid on her temper and simply pointed out that had he bothered to write, her reply would have cleared that up in an instant. Sensing a storm brewing and clearly wanting to avoid it, he nodded and said in a politely formal way that it had been good to see her that night, that she had looked lovely as always, and that if she wanted to catch up at some point, she knew where to find him. By then, they had reached her doorstep where he stared intently into her eyes for a few moments, gently tucked a curl behind her ear, and said a quiet “good night,” before disapparating from the exact same spot he had the last time they’d seen each other.

Hermione’s brain was swimming as she fell into bed that night. She had no idea what to make of Draco’s words or behavior. She was furious with his nonchalance towards her obvious hurt, and couldn’t believe his nerve. _She knew where to find him?_ That made it sound like all of this, whatever they might have had or could potentially pursue, was entirely up to her. That wasn’t fair! He was the one who disappeared for fifteen months. He was the one who didn’t make a single attempt to correspond with her the entire time he was gone, or since he’d returned. Her anger was mounting again but a small voice in the back of her brain reminded her that _she_ was the one who had suggested they end things, so really....

Several days passed with her alternating between stewing over his apparent lack of interest and a pitiful desire to go to him and beg him to take her back. Every time the latter sensation reared its mortifying head, she grit her teeth and refocused her energy on something else, something more important, like creating an entirely new filing system for her office. They crossed paths a few times and while he made steady eye-contact and smiled in an infuriatingly genuine and attractive way, he never offered more than a pleasant greeting or a genial nod. Every time such interactions occurred, it felt like another bee sting on her already-swollen heart. She decided if he wasn’t going to make any effort whatsoever, she wasn’t going to force her unwanted presence on him.

A week after the gala, Hermione was getting ready for her date with Harry’s coworker. They were going to a new, rather posh Muggle restaurant in a corner of East London that Hermione had heard wonderful things about, and was immensely pleased to find out it would be their destination that evening. As she got dressed, she had a fleeting thought as to what a particular Slytherin might be up to that night, but shook off her curiosity in favor of recounting the things she liked about the man she actually _was_ going to see shortly. While she applied her mascara and dabbed on perfume, she couldn’t stop the images flooding her mind; a moonlit stroll, coffee at the cafe, candlelight dinners, a picnic on the beach.

She took a deep, fortifying breath and walked briskly over to her desk where she pulled out a piece of parchment and jotted down a short message. After attaching the missive to her owl’s leg and sending her out into the evening air, she went to stand before her mirror once more, giving herself a critical once-over, smoothing a few wayward curls off her face, and fixing her top so it sat just so. She lifted her chin, determination settling on her delicate features as she promised herself to make the most of the evening’s events. Striding to the fireplace, she threw a handful of powder into the flames, called out her destination and spun out of sight.

She stepped out of the hearth and allowed herself a moment to quiet her nerves, finding the room to be empty, though it didn’t stay so for long.

“Hello.”

She turned to find a familiar pair of steel grey eyes studying her with an intensity that caused her heart to skip.

“Hello,” she breathed in response. “Guess I did know where to find you.”

**“What if I’m tryin’, but then I close my eyes, and then I’m right back, lost in that last goodbye? And what if time doesn’t do what it's supposed to do? What if I never get over you?” ~Lady Antebellum**

**Author's Note:**

> I'm mildly obsessed with this song, and I also very firmly believe that it would be immensely difficult to get over our favorite Slytherin ;)


End file.
